red waistcoat. He received us with much greeting, and seemed delighted
to see my young companion, who was full of merriment and waggery,
drawing out his peculiarities for my amusement. The old man was one of
the most authentic and particular of cicerones; he pointed out
everything in the Abbey that had been described by Scott in his "Lay of
the Last Minstrel:" and would repeat, with broad Scottish accent, the
passage which celebrated it.

Thus, in passing through the cloisters, he made me remark the beautiful
carvings of leaves and flowers wrought in stone with the most exquisite
delicacy, and, notwithstanding the lapse of centuries, retaining their
sharpness as if fresh from the chisel; rivalling, as Scott has said,
the real objects of which they were imitations:

"Nor herb nor flowret glistened there
But was carved in the cloister arches as fair."

He pointed out, also, among the carved work a nun's head of much
beauty, which he said Scott always stopped to admire--"for the shirra
had a wonderful eye for all sic matters."

I would observe that Scott seemed to derive more consequence in the
neighborhood from being sheriff of the county than from being poet.

In the interior of the Abbey Johnny Bower conducted me to the identical
stone on which Stout "William of Deloraine" and the monk took their seat
on that memorable night when the wizard's book was to be rescued from
the grave. Nay, Johnny had even gone beyond Scott in the minuteness of
his antiquarian research, for he had discovered the very tomb of the
wizard, the position of which had been left in doubt by the poet. This